


Shameless Demon

by FollyOfTheWise



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Good Slytherins, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Host Harry, Humor, Implied Bottom Draco, Implied Switching, Incubus Draco, Lot of blow jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Graphic Smut, Patronus charms, Potions Accident, Protective Slytherins, Ron is awesome, Slytherins Being Slytherins, VERY mildly dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4172121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FollyOfTheWise/pseuds/FollyOfTheWise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco’s simple desire for happiness changes Harry's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shameless Demon

Ron heaved a sigh of relief as he kicked off towards the Gryffindor goalposts just as the whistle blew, signalling the start of the first game of the season, Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor. He squinted at Harry, circling the pitch on lookout for the snitch. According to Hermione, he must be too distracted to obsess over Draco Malfoy.

 “Malfoy is not at the game.” Harry announced 20 minutes into the game, hovering around the Gryffindor posts on his quest for the snitch.  Ron looked up from the Blitzen Ballet the Gryffindor chasers were performing at the opposite goal-post.

“You were looking for Malfoy for the last half hour?” Ron asked incredulously.

Harry gave an impatient huff. “He has never missed a game!”

Maybe they were too quick to underestimate Harry’s obsessive stalker tendencies.

“That’s good to know, mate.” Ron muttered, and turned back to his Blitzen Ballet. Merlin, Johnson was one crazy bird, how does she think she will-

“Parkinson and Nott are missing too.” _And his creepiness_.  Ron made a strangled groan and whipped around to face Harry just as the seeker finally saw the snitch and took off after it.

Ron shot backwards in a jerky motion to block an incoming Quaffle, and Harry made a squiggly arc to avoid hitting Ron while still keeping the snitch in sight.

The Hufflepuff seeker was on the opposite side of the pitch, and the Hufflepuff beaters sent a desperate bludger hurtling towards Harry in an attempt to discourse him.

Ron watched it wide eyed, almost in a slow motion, as Harry tried to balance himself after their near collision, and reached an arm out to catch the snitch while he made a sloth-grip roll to avoid the bludger, his hair brushing the grass blades.

Ron wasn’t sure if Harry’s grip slipped, or if his head hitting the ground made him fall, but soon, the entire Gryffindor team was converging in on the fallen seeker.

Ron managed to push through the front just to see Harry release the snitch before passing out.

**o.o**

Harry woke up with a splitting headache and the sharp smells of antiseptic charms making his nose sting. The infirmary was dim, the waning light from the high windows casting long shadows. He scrabbled for his glasses and shoved them on.

Madam Pomfrey was arranging vials near his bedside table and smiled at him when he looked at her, “How’re you feeling, Potter?”

Harry thinks Madam Pomfrey had mellowed out a bit after the war, and had a soft spot for the returning eighth year students. He tried to sit up, and the glare Madam Pomfrey gave him put _those_ thoughts to rest.

“Fine,” Harry said, gratefully taking the glass of water the mediwitch pressed into his hand, “Head hurts a bit. What day is it?”

“Its Sunday evening. A nasty hit you had,” she sniffed and rummaged around one of the infirmary cupboard. She came back and handed him a small pill. “Take that, you might have a concussion, can’t risk a Headache Potion with that.”

After much cajoling and promises to stay away from any hard ground, or (to his glee) reading, or anything mentally taxing, Madam Pomfrey let him go back to his dormitory only after the assurance that Hermione Granger would take care of him and he’d be back if he feels anything wrong.

He rushed out of the infirmary before she changed her mind.

As he walked back towards the Gryffindor tower, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallways, he very much hoped that it was not after curfew. The lack of students didn’t seem promising and the thought of meeting Filch, or worse, his cat made his footsteps quicken.

Filch really won’t care about his infirmary visit, or his status as a war-hero. Harry smiled, feeling oddly fond of the old, cantankerous caretaker who refused to let anything colour his view of people around him, and took a short cut to the tower.

He cursed aloud when the staircase moved, as it rarely does. It just had to be his luck that the staircase decided to move today, of all days.

Harry sighed, resigned to continuing forward instead of waiting for the staircase to move again which might take another 2 years. He wished he had his map or at least his cloak because the tapestry at the end of the staircase didn’t look very familiar and he had a horrible flashback to his first year and the unfortunate encounter with Fluffy, the three-headed giant dog.

Harry shook his head and reached the top. He was still in Hogwarts and he could still find his way anywhere.

With that in mind, and a small game of _tinker, tailor_ , he turned right and continued, trying to find an association in his mind. He was walking along in a long, empty hallway, tall windows lining up one side, and locked rooms with dusty doors lining the other when he heard noises.

Hoping to run into anyone, even Peeves, or Filch, he quickened. He turned the corner, and saw the light spilling out of one classroom. This time, he heard someone speak, vaguely familiar and an indistinct reply followed by a _very_ familiar groan.

Eyes wide and pulse quick, he silently crept over to the door and peaked inside.

It was Malfoy, along with Nott, and Parkinson and Zabini, standing around a desk atop which a cauldron sat bubbling, white and purple fumes rising from the open top. They looked like they were arguing about something. Malfoy suddenly pushed back from where he was cutting something on the desk and whirled around to face Parkinson, face flushed, either from the heat or from anger.

“Don’t you get it? I am not doing this just for myself!”

Parkinson recoiled back into Zabini’s arms, her face terrified and pale. Harry watched curiously as Malfoy deflated, “I want to, Pansy. I want to do this! I want us all to do this!”

Harry jolted in surprise when the sound of throat clearing drew his attention to a portrait in the corner of the room. Professor Snape was sitting in a chair in front of his potions’ desk, leaning forward as if in a conference with his Slytherin students.

His drawling voice still sent a shiver of something unpleasant and yet melancholic down Harry’s spine, “Ms. Parkinson may be right, Draco. You are very well driving yourself to the brink of insanity.”

Harry saw Malfoy sneer. The portrait raised an eyebrow and Malfoy sighed in resignation. Malfoy dropped down onto a bench pushed to the corner of the empty room and stared down at his hands while he spoke in a small voice, his blonde hair forming a curtain around his face. Harry strained to hear, even in the night-time silence of empty hallways.

“But it’s not fair. It’s not fair that we can’t do it. Everyone can do it!”

“Not everyone.” Zabini replied in a placating tone. “Not everyone can do it. It’s highly advanced, and that’s why it’s only in the NEWTS theory, not practicals.”

“But everyone has a chance!” Harry jumped when Malfoy shouted, causing Parkinson to step back in alarm while Malfoy stood up and pointed at the Italian, “Everyone has a chance to do it, but can you do it? Even if you work for it, can you do it? Huh?”

“Professor Snape could.” Parkinson said in a small voice. Harry frowned, his brain struggling to make sense of the bizarre conversation.

“I could do it before I was…” Professor Snape trailed off, “I could do it when I was in my sixth year.”

“But did we ever have a chance?” Malfoy took over, arms flailing wildly, “We didn’t. We never did! Happiness, we never had the chance at happiness!”

Harry had never seen Draco Malfoy so animated, arms pin wheeling madly, blond hair mussed and sticking up where he had run his hands through them in agitation. His face was flushed, robes discarded and the collar of his white shirt displaying the flushed skin of his throat.

“No one could, Draco! In our year, no one could.” Parkinson said, and Harry could feel the tension crackle in the room as Malfoy gave a grim smile of smug satisfaction.

“Except Potter.” Zabini pointed out dryly, “And his entire gang of lions who he taught.”

And Harry started again at his name. What can he do? Were they talking about the D.A.?

“And that’s why,” Malfoy said quietly, turned back to his cauldron to add the sliced ingredients, “And that’s why we are all going to do it, too. _All_ the Slytherins will produce a Patronus.”

**o.o**

Harry couldn’t sleep that night.

After he had left that empty hallway, he had met the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost. While the ghost had glared at him all through it, he gave him the directions at least to the dungeons.

From there, Harry managed to find his way to the Gryffindor tower, to his dormitory and to his bed.

He spent the night staring at the four dots gathered in a far corner of the Hogwarts, and fell asleep in the early hours, still staring at the map.

He intercepted Hermione before breakfast.

“’Mione.” Hermione gave him a suspicious look when Harry looked around to check for any eavesdropper, “’Mione, what do you know about the Patronus charm?”

Hermione frowned, “The Patronus charm? Harry, I think you are the expert on that one.”

Harry shook his head irritable, “Not practical. Theoretically. Say, is there any reason why someone couldn’t do a Patronus?”

“Patronus needs a happy memory.” Hermione said slowly, “And of course, it’s a highly advanced charm, it needs a strong determination and magical power to-”

It was a testament to Harry’s impatience when he deemed it fit to cut off Hermione when she was in her lecture mode. “No, no. I mean, someone _really_ couldn’t do it. Despite how hard they work, or how much they try, or how strong they were.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed as comprehension drew over her face. Harry tried to look as innocent as he could while blushing hotly under her gaze.

“Harry, is this about Malfoy?” Hermione demanded. “Harry, what do you know? Harry!”

In a rush, Harry blurted out everything he heard last night, hastily making sure that Hermione knew it was a mistake, and he had not actually been looking around for the Slytherin.

Hermione had a speculative look, and she seemed distracted when she ran off, promising to meet him at breakfast. Harry trudged off to the Great Hall and dropped down next to Ron, who gave him a questioning glance.

Harry shook his head, and scanned the Slytherin table again. Parkinson, Zabini and Nott were huddled up at one end on the table, their faces pale and their eyes frightened. The other ‘eight year’ students were giving them concerned looks but they still didn’t dare talk to them.

“Harry. Mate.” Harry tore his eyes away and tried to focus on Ron who was giving him a dry look, “Eat your dinner.”

“Yeah,” Harry looked down and picked up a fork, sneaking a glance to make sure he hadn’t overlooked Malfoy.

“Hello,” Hermione dropped down next to him just as the breakfast was ending and began serving herself.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed, startling Ron into dropping his fork. “Did you find something?”

Hermione gave him a secretive smile and Ron glared at him briefly when Hermione dropped her fork and beckoned them closer. After filling Ron about the basics, Harry ignored his groans and concentrated on Hermione.

“So, see. During sixth year, I was interested in how the Dark Marks work. Professor Lupin and I, we tried to unearth some of the basic spells on the Mark.”

Ron gave her an alarmed look and Hermione waved it off, “Listen, guys. Focus. The Mark affected the very magic of a wizard. That’s what enabled the Dark Lord to make all his followers obey his will without questions. But the actual _core_ of a wizard’s magic, that is pure and the body would obliterate itself before something could touch that purity.”

Hermione stopped and beamed at them. Harry raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “And what does that tells us, Hermione?”

Hermione huffed in annoyance, “That, _Harry_ , tells us why a Death Eater can’t produce a Patronus.”

“Snape could produce a Patronus.” Ron interrupted.

“Will you let me finish?” Hermione burst, drawing scared looks from the students sitting around them. Hermione gave them a sheepish wave and continued in a hushed voice, “When someone produces the Patronus for the first time, it needs that purity of joy, untainted and untouched. Technically, it must be easier for a child to produce a Patronus, since he is in touch with his untainted self, but a child can’t exert the sheer amount of Magical energy required to cast such a powerful charm. And _that_ is the reason the Patronus is one of the difficult charms; it needs both the magical power, and purity of that childish happiness, which most adults can’t find.”

“That still doesn’t answer why Death Eaters can’t produce a Patronus and why Snape could.” Ron said.

Hermione sighed, and looked at them with that pitying expression which Harry and Ron had come to find more amusing than annoying.

“When the Death Eaters get that Mark, their entire magic is tainted with it. The magic tries to hide the core, bury it in as far as it could to keep it untouched by the darkness. And that is the reason why Death Eaters can’t produce a Patronus; their very essence is buried so deep inside them that they can’t access it anymore, either for a corporal Patronus, or for an animagus. ”

“But Snape managed to produce a Patronus in his sixth year.” Harry breathed out, “Before he took his Dark Mark.”

“Yes!” Hermione exclaimed, “He did. And so, he managed to access himself before the darkness could take it away from him.”

“This is all so confusing. I don’t think my Jack Russel thinks so much when I cast him.” Ron said, causing Harry and Hermione to laugh as they stood up to follow their classmates to their first class.

**o.o**

Malfoy did not attend the morning classes.

Flitwick didn’t react when Malfoy didn’t answer to his roll call, and neither did Sprout. When McGonagal ignored Malfoy’s absence, Harry started to get suspicious. In the Advance Potions class, Harry dragged Hermione and Ron to sit behind Parkinson, Zabini and Nott.

When Slughorn announced that they’d be studying the Wiggenwald potion, and took the lid off the cauldron, the three Slytherin hissed. Slughorn waved his wand at the blackboard and instructed them to copy it down. Harry listened to their furious whispers while he pretended to take notes after making sure Hermione was diligently copying them.

“I am sure it was the boom berry juice.” Parkinson jabbed her finger at a few papers spread in front of them. Harry craned his neck to see them, but from the distance, could only make out Malfoy’s neat and packed writing filling the parchments.

“The theory was flawless; it was not the potion, Pansy.” Zabini whispered, and all three of them quietened when Slughorn called out for all of them to collect the ingredients listed on the board.

It was when they were adding the moondew drops that Parkinson made a soft, choked noise, “The bicorn horn! The bicorn horn would make the Moondew drops volatile!”

Nott gasped and Blaise turned pale, “And the volatile moondew vapours and the boom berry juice!”

“That must be why he fainted!” Parkinson whispered.

Harry shared a cautious look with Hermione and Ron, who had the similar expressions of mixed curiosity and caution.

**o.o**

Harry gave the Slytherin table a cursory scan that afternoon and doubled back to see the pale blond head bent over the same notes he had seen in the Potions class that morning.

His friends were sitting around him too, and all four of them looked like they were in a heated and excited discussion. Parkinson pointed at the staff table and Malfoy looked up, his eyes were bright, liquid silver and he was laughing.

He froze when his eyes met Harry’s, and the happiness dripped away until all that remained was a peculiar blank look. They stared at each other for a few minutes, and Harry could see his eyes change, freezing into a cold steel.

Malfoy looked away first when Zabini nudged his arm and gave him a questioning look. Malfoy shook his head, shuffled all the notes together and stood up to leave, accompanied by the other three.

Before he could pass the doors of the Great Hall, Malfoy looked back and Harry could see his silver eyes reflect the same confusion he felt.

**o.o**

After their afternoon classes, Harry and Hermione dragged Ron to the library to look up what potion Malfoy could be making.

“I can’t believe you went over to the dark side, Harry!” Ron moaned as Hermione smugly dropped a stack of books between them and Harry snatched the book on the top.

“Ron, we have to find out what he’s doing.” Harry said quietly, scanning the index for anything that might seem relevant. Hermione flipped open a few books and even Ron began to search for anything he found relevant after much moaning and groaning.

An hour later, Hermione closed the heavy tome she was reading with a disgusted snort, “There is no potion that might be able to unlock a wizard’s magical power!”

Harry sighed and gave up too. He leaned forward and rested his head on his arms, like Ron had been doing for the last 40 minutes. “But then what was Malfoy doing, Hermione?”

“Maybe he was creating a new potion.” Hermione suggested tentatively. Ron snorted and raised his head.

“Yeah, sure. A new potion.”

Harry sat up too, a thoughtful look on his face, “Actually, why not? He could be creating something.”

“Harry!” Ron sighed, “Creating potions requires a great deal more knowledge than what can be found in school books, or even in this library! Its not something a school student can do.”

“Malfoy had been always excellent in Potions.” Hermione offered, glaring slightly.

Harry snorted, “The only subject you came second, eh, ‘Mione?”

“Shut up.” Hermione muttered, looking away.

Harry gave her a little friendly nudge, “Doesn’t matter, you’ll always be the brightest witch, even if not the best Potions Mast-oh!”

“What?”

“The Potion Master!” Harry exclaimed, “They were talking to Snape’s portrait!”

Hermione became so excited with this that she tore into a few books with new gusto. Harry and Ron were so excited that they continued to stare at her research for them, both of them brimming with renewed energy.

At least until Harry became distracted by a group of students entering the library, the platinum blond head catching his attention as it disappeared between the book shelves while the rest of his cronies shooed some first years away from a table.

“Hermione, I’ll go get you some more books.” Harry said, ignoring Ron’s questioning look as he slid off his chair and went into the maze of book shelves. He could see the blond moving two rows ahead and ducked into the next aisle so that he could watch him from between the books lining the shelves.

Malfoy seemed to be pulling books at random as he traversed through the aisles; a book on Patronus, a book on Animagus transformations, a few books on Potions ingredient, two books on Wizarding history, a book on wizarding creatures, and curiously enough, a couple genealogy books on Pureblood families of the Wizarding Great Britain.

Harry watched as Malfoy stacked the books and calmly levitated them to sit on a nearby desk. He then turned around, right to the shelf separating him from Harry and dragged off 6 books from the shelf, leaving him staring at Harry with a bored expression.

“Get your arse over here before I come there and hex you.” Malfoy drawled, arched one unimpressed eyebrow, and placed the six books back in there place.

Harry, embarrassed at being caught, and vibrating with the excitement of another spat with Malfoy, rounded the aisle and came to where Malfoy was leaning against a round table, casually flipping through a book.

“Malfoy.” Harry said as he came closer, one hand tight around his wand.”What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Potter?” Malfoy gave him a sweet smile, which was more disconcerting than anything else he might have done to Harry.

Then, quick as a viper, Malfoy grabbed him by his collar and before Harry had a chance to draw his wand, slammed him against the desk. He pushed him backwards and forced him to sit, one hand pinning his wand arm while the other still held onto his collar.

Harry was breathing hard as Malfoy bought his face closer to him, lips twisted into a snarl and eyes flashing furiously and he hissed, “Don’t think for a second I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Harry forced out, distracted by the pale strands tickling his nose and the hot breath he could feel on his cheek.

“Of course you’re not.” Malfoy agreed, his grip tightening as he moved even closer, forcing Harry to spread his legs to let him stand between them, “You are just following me around, and eavesdropping on my friends when I’m not around. Do you think you’re subtle, Potter?”

“Are you doing something illegal again, Malfoy?” Harry asked, staring at Malfoy in defiance. His snarl became more pronounced, face close enough that their noses were brushing.

And then the peculiar blank look came over his face and his eyes froze.

Malfoy continued staring at him for a few more seconds before his grip on his collar loosened. Harry breathed in, the constricting pressure against his throat relieving for a second before he felt a warm hand splay on the overheated skin of his neck, pushing inside his open collar.

Harry felt his breath coming short when the hand on his wrist began to slide up his arm, just as the hand on his neck began to slide up to cup his jaw, the thumb fanning out on his cheekbone.

He stared at Malfoy, horrified as the hand went from his arm to his shoulder and then dipped down to splay out on his chest, right over his thudding heart, the thumb flicking against his nipple through his school shirt. While the hand on his jaw cupped his neck, the other hand continued its journey downwards.

Harry finally came to his senses when Malfoy moved closer between his legs and his hand reached his abdomen, fingers pressing into his belt buckle.

He pushed at Malfoy’s chest, causing the blond to release his neck. One more push and Malfoy stumbled back. He caught himself on a displaced chair, his chest heaving and pale skin red. Harry stared in morbid fascination as the cold steel of his eyes began to melt back into warm silver even as his eyes widened in disbelief.

“What the fuck?” Malfoy mouthed before he turned and fled, leaving Harry sitting on the table, flushed and legs spread wide, with a stack of books on seemingly random subjects.

**o.o**

Harry wisely didn’t tell Hermione or Ron about the ‘Library Incident’, especially because he himself didn’t know what to make of it.

While they were suspicious when Harry suddenly stopped talking about Malfoy, they were still happy that, as Ron said, _he was growing out of his creepiness._

Harry objects to it being called _creepy_ , just on principal.

Creepy was for movie villains, he thought as he watched Draco out of the corner of his eye, _he_ was merely concerned about the welfare of the world, as befitting a chosen hero.

Malfoy and his friends were pouring over some books again, but this time, Malfoy looked stressed.

Not just stressed, Harry amended as he gave up on pretend- studying. Malfoy looked _sick._

Justin should learn to be quieter in a study class, he thought, shooting the offending blonde a nasty glare as he scooted closer to the group on the long bench the eighth year Potions students were sitting on.

Loud blondes aside, Draco Malfoy looked like he was on the verge of tears as he rooted around his bag. Parkinson handed him the familiar bundle of notes and he once again spread them out, his mouth moving constantly as he traced his finger on his own script.

Slughorn was moving between the aisles, occasionally peaking over students’ shoulders to make sure they were studying but otherwise enjoying his slices of sugared pineapples. As the professor moved towards the Slytherins, Theo raised a hand to beckon the professor over.

“What would be the reaction of doxy venom and bicorn horn?” Harry heard him ask. The professor frowned and answered a few seconds later in a low voice.

Harry scooted closer to them, shooting Justin another glare for good measures.

“Professor,” He heard Malfoy speak, his voice hoarse and scratchy, unrecognizable from his usual low drawl, “what about the moondew? If moondew vapours react with the essence of boom berry, what would happen?”

“Just the vapours and the essence, Mr. Malfoy?” Slughorn asked, getting the awkward twitch on his eyebrow he used to get every time Harry had questioned him about dark magic in the sixth year.

“Just the essence.” Malfoy assured him, “If the bicorn horn reacts with boom berry, and the boom berry essence further reacts with the fumes of moondew, what would be the effect?”

“Mr. Malfoy, it’s a very complex reaction…” Slughorn said, frown deepening.

“Excuse me, Professor,” Zabini interjected, “please, what if the bicorn reacting with boom berry, and the moondew fumes, both are from a separate source than the boom berry itself?”

Harry didn’t think that Slughorn noticed, staring at the ceiling as he tried to solve the complicated question worded by the boys, but Harry noticed as sudden comprehension dawned on their faces and they exchanged wordless looks of horror and awe, not caring anymore what Slughorn had to say as they dived back into the notes.

**o.o**

Malfoy accosted him two days later in the old Hieroglyphic Hall after curfew.

Harry had been following Blaise Zabini where he was wandering around the corridors in a seemingly random fashion. But Harry could see the two dots labelled ‘Pansy Parkinson’ and ‘Theodore Nott’ sitting in that old classroom and a ‘Draco Malfoy’ dot hovering in the Slytherin dormitories, making his way to the Slytherin common room.

Hoping to glean some more information about the Slytherin project, Harry was making his way to that classroom, but he had taken a known, straight route through the Hieroglyphic Hall. Knowing he was alone in this area of the castle, he had stuffed his map back into his pocket and had taken out his wand to light his way when he had felt someone tug on the back of his collar.

“Malfoy!” Harry gasped as his back hit the wall, and his wand clattered on the dusty floor. Malfoy pressed him harder, his elbow digging uncomfortably into Harry’s ribs. The dust cloud made Harry sneeze once, making the blond back away enough for Harry to push him away.

But once again, quick before he could make another move, Malfoy twisted his arm behind his back and trapped him again. The glasses dug into his face as his face was pushed against the wall. He flushed as Malfoy pressed harder against him, his hot breath curling around his ear when he spoke.

“Didn’t I tell you not to follow me around, Potter?” Malfoy hissed, and Harry hated that he shivered.

“I wasn’t following you.” Harry denied and struggled until Malfoy was forced to press his other hand to the wall near his head.

“Liar.” Malfoy whispered, his voice low, dark, and _seductive_ and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt something wet on his ear and was that Malfoy’s _tongue_?   

“Malfoy!” Harry protested, even as he felt arousal pool in his groin when Malfoy traced the shell of his ear with his tongue, and then dipped his tongue _inside_ -

Harry pushed against the wall, and managed to dislodge the blond again, only for a few seconds before he found himself pinned back, both his hands caught in a large warm hand.

“Potter,” Malfoy gasped out, his breath coming in hot pants on Harry’s face. Now face-to-face, Harry could see his face was flushed, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his pupils unnaturally dilated.

Harry felt a tendril of worry worm through the frankly _terrified_ thoughts in his mind. He leaned forward to touch his forehead to the blond’s, and hissed at the temperature

“Malfoy, you’re running a fever!” his breath hitched when Malfoy leaned down and buried his face in his neck. Harry could smell the expensive shampoo and Malfoy’s cologne and the hot breath on his sensitive skin and he stopped breathing all together when he felt a tongue lick a stripe up his neck.

“Malfoy,” he whispered urgently, trying to push the blonde back, “Malfoy, stop. You’re burning-”

“Shut up, Potter!” Draco snapped, peppering his neck with small kisses. Harry gasped when his hands were let loose and one hand twisted into his hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat to a fresh assault of kisses. He yelped when Draco bit his neck, and the other hand reached his abdomen again.

“Malfoy!” Harry whined, “Malfoy, stop this!”

Pushing Malfoy was like moving a boulder. He latched to his throat, sucking enthusiastically and then licking it soothingly. Every time he tried to push him away, the hand in his hair twisted tighter, pulling his head back painfully until he stopped struggling.

Harry felt the tears gathering in his eyes as Malfoy grinded his hips against Harry’s, and Harry, Harry gave back as good he got, arching against the hot, hard body as Malfoy’s arms caged him, his elbows on the wall.

Malfoy moved to his jaw, and to his ear and he bit his ear lobe and Harry mewled as he made a particularly hard thrust and Harry knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t last longer if Malfoy continued this assault.

Harry again pushed at the man against him, and tears sprung from his eyes as he cried out his release, feeling Malfoy’s thrust become more erratic until he bit down on Harry’s neck, _hard_ and Harry almost screamed.

Malfoy slumped against him, arms clinging to him and his head on Harry’s shoulder and Harry’s legs were trembling as he tried to keep them both propped up against the wall and tried not to think about what just happened.

Finally, Malfoy pulled away, and Harry’s hands fell to his side uselessly as Malfoy removed his hands from Harry’s body and took a quick step back, his expression as horrified as Harry felt.

Harry watched, still trying to catch his breath, as the cold grey eyes again melted back to silver, pupils still dilated, but not unnaturally so, and face flushed an attractive shade of red.

Malfoy turned and ran down the corridor, into the dark gloominess, leaving Harry slumped down the wall, head cradled in his hands as he tried to get his thoughts back in working order.

**o.o**

“What happened to you? You look horrible.”

“Ta, ‘Mione.” Harry muttered as he sat down next to her and poured his coffee in a juice glass.

“He spent the night sitting at the window.” Ron answered, calmly replacing the spoon in Harry’s hand with a fork before he managed to bludgeon his pancakes to a squishy death.

“Why?” Hermione asked, moving her tea mug out of Harry’s reach.

Ron shrugged, “Came in late last night, all red and panting as if he had run to the tower from the dungeons and-Harry!”

Harry jumped and tried to look as unassuming as possible under twin glares of fury.

“You followed Malfoy again!” Hermione declared, crossed her arms and gave him her best ‘ _I am so disappointed in you, Harry James Potter!’_ expression.

Harry was trying to look clueless when the blond menace walked through the doors, flanked by his Slytherin cronies and Harry very nearly _combusted_ when Malfoy gave him a wide eyed look.

“What did you do this time, Harry?” Ron asked in an eerily calm voice he had picked up from Hermione.

“Why do you think I did something?” Harry yelped, ignoring the looks of disbelief he gained from his two friends, and some of the other Gryffindors, as he stood up, shouldered his bag, and stalked out of the Great Hall.

Four days later, Harry had developed paranoia that he was being watched and thoroughly avoided at the same time.

It was an odd feeling, he observed as he subtly turned in his seat under the guise of helping Neville with his chicken-clock hybrid, and trying his best to ignore Hermione warning him that his chick was trying to pluck away the stitching on his school bag.

The four Slytherins were tucked into the very back of the Advance Transfiguration classroom, with Malfoy surrounded on the four sides by his friends and the wall.

Each of them had a confused chick pecking at their desks. Malfoy’s chick was examining Zabini’s inkwell with an unhealthy amount of fascination. The four of them themselves were whispering furiously to each other, stopping only to show McGonagall their chicks and they resumed when she went away to other students.

Parkinson snatched a book from Malfoy’s hand to bring it to the front at her desk, and Harry saw that it was one of those genealogy books Malfoy was picking in the library.

Harry saw Malfoy’s face intently, the chiming chick in front of him forgotten when the already pale face turned a sick green. Nott smacked Parkinson’s head lightly to call her attention to the book in front of Zabini and all four of them spent a few minutes quietly reading.

Malfoy was out of his desk as soon as the lunch-bell rang, leaving his books and bag in the classroom. His friends began to calmly put together their collective possessions and carried his bag out of the classroom too.

Harry excused himself, leaving his torn bag, his chick and his books and avoided meeting Hermione’s annoyed eyes or Ron’s worried blue ones as he ran to his dorm to get his map and his cloak.

He located the four friends in the Slytherin common room, alone as everyone went to lunch, where they remained for the next 20 minutes before they made their way down to the lake.

Harry followed them, under his cloak and careful to remain silent.

Draco was leaning against Nott as they walked, with Zabini on his other side. Both the boys had an arm wrapped around the thin blond and Harry stamped down an irrational flicker of envy. They sat down at the base of a large oak tree, and Harry went to the other side where he could hear them talk without being seen.

Malfoy had looked as dull all morning as he had been for the last four days after their…encounter; hair mussed, eyes crazed, and face pallid, he looked like death warmed over. It was still surprising for Harry when he heard him speak in a thin, scratchy voice.

“We need a cure.”

“Draco,” Zabini’s voice was sympathetic but impatient, “You know very well that it’s impossible; unlocked magic can’t be locked back in.”

Unlocked magic? Had Malfoy finally managed to unlock his magic core to produce a Patronus? But then what did they need to cure?

“I can’t live like this!” Malfoy insisted. His voice muffled as he continued, “I don’t want to live like this!”

Harry chanced a peek around the trunk and saw Malfoy had his head in Parkinson’s lap. Nott was lying down with his head on her outstretched legs while she herself leaned against Blaise.

It was odd, Harry thought, watching the Slytherins interact. They had a general reputation of distrust and cunning, putting one’s own self before anyone else.

But now as he watched Parkinson lean down and plant a lingering kiss on the Draco’s head, and saw Nott card his fingers through the blond hair, he began to wonder if it wasn’t _one’s own family before anyone else_.

“We talked to Snape,” Blaise said after a lengthy pause, “He agrees with your assessment. You were working on that potion too long and when you were exposed to the Wiggenwald fumes, they reacted on your body and…”

“And caused me to become _this_.” Malfoy finished with disgust evident in his voice. Harry wondered what was wrong with him. He looked perfectly fine, if a bit sick, and if a bit more prone to molesting unsuspecting Gryffindors down in the dungeons.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Draco!” Nott snapped, rising up on his elbows so that he was hovering over the blond, “It’s your magic, it’s a gift!”

“Theo’s right, Draco.” Pansy said, her voice soft, “There is nothing wrong with this, and you know it, too. We just need to find someone for you-”

“But it is wrong, can’t you see it?” Malfoy interrupted, sitting up and regarding all of them with large, pleading silver eyes, “It is wrong when I need Harry fucking Potter to fulfill it.”

There was a moment of stunned silence and Harry desperately tried to wrap his head around the fact that Malfoy needed him to fulfill something.

“You mean-Potter?” Blaise asked, his voice full of disbelief, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Malfoy snapped, “Who else can you imagine in this school with a magic more powerful?”

It was something to do with his magic, Harry thought, dazed, Malfoy was up to some mischief again and he needed Harry as a magical sacrifice and-

Parkinson’s voice cut off his thoughts before they can take a more morbid turn, “But…surely there is someone more compatible with your magic? I mean, come on, Draco!”

“My bloody wand responds to his magic, Pansy!” Malfoy said miserably, “Harry Potter is the most powerful and the most compatible host I can find in this school.”

And Harry’s mind short-circuited again.

And then Malfoy asked them to go, and leave him alone. And the three of them, they stood up, and with a final kiss on the cheek, they left him alone.

Harry was still sitting with his back pressed against the tree when Malfoy dropped down on his knees in front of him, between his legs and glared at him sullenly.

“So. Satisfied, Potter? Now that you know everything?”

“I’d hardly call that everything,” Harry responded, still gaping at the blond. “How long have you known I’m here?”

Malfoy snorted and sat down primly, legs folded underneath his body, dressed only in his shirt and trousers, sitting between Harry’s legs once more. Malfoy placed a hand on Harry’s knee and Harry jerked as if electrocuted. Malfoy gave him a warning glare, as if it was _Harry’s_ fault that he was running his hand up and down Harry’s thigh and oh, if he didn’t stop soon-

“Did you know that none of us can cast a Patronus?” Malfoy asked, casually ignoring Harry’s question.

Harry forced himself to look away from that bloody hand dancing on his thigh and at Malfoy, who was giving him a small smirk as if the bastard knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

“Yes, yes, I do. Because of your Dark Mark?” Harry forced the words through his mouth. The hand paused for a brief- long- second before it resumed again, inching lower on every pass.

“Yes. The Dark Mark.” Malfoy nodded, bringing his other hand up to play with Harry’s cuff, “So I’ve been developing a potion. You must be aware of that?”

Malfoy gave him a sharp glance and Harry nodded hesitantly, “To unlock your magic core, so that you can access it to achieve a Patronus and a-an animagus.”

Malfoy continued with an expression of grim satisfaction on his face, “I went to Professor Slughorn that morning, before breakfast. I had some questions-”

Harry raised an eyebrow, and Malfoy gave him a small smirk, “Fine, I needed some ingredients, okay? He had that blasted Wiggenwald potion brewing in the classroom. He was prattling on about it, and lifted the lid.”

“And the fumes reacted.” Harry said breathlessly, aware of the hands on his lower abdomen and on his inner thigh, teasing along the seams of his pants.

The bells rang in the distance, signalling the end of lunch time, and they both ignored them as Malfoy nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. And do you know what Wiggenwald Potion does, Potter?” Malfoy’s voice was low, and seductive. Harry’s breath came in short pants as Malfoy worked his shirt free, and continued nonchalantly, “It’s a reviving potion, Potter. It reacted with the ingredients of my potion.”

And Harry, Harry had stopped breathing as soon as Malfoy had began to unbutton his shirt, and his fingers were dancing and tugging at the dark hair leading down to his-

“And did you know, Potter?” The fingers dancing along his inner thighs and on his abdomen stopped, and the hands travelled to his knees, fingers curling under his knees.

Malfoy leaned closer and _pulled_ him forward, Harry’s breath escaped in a rush as his head was barely saved from knocking against the trunk and Harry was lying there on the grass, shirt partially buttoned, and his legs wrapped around Malfoy’s waist who was staring down at him with a predatory expression.

Malfoy leaned closer, and Harry closed his eyes when Malfoy’s lips brushed against his ear, hot arousal coursing through veins as Malfoy pressed his hands into the soft dirt, “Malfoys had always been big on seeking pleasure.”

**o.o**

Malfoy began to kiss down his neck, and nibbled at his collarbone. Harry could do nothing but stare wide-eyed at the canopy above them, head spinning from the smell of grass, and wet dirt, and Malfoy’s aftershave surrounding him.

His skin burned wherever those soft, pale lips touched, leaving a trail down his sternum before they returned back to his chest, and to his throat and then to his jaws. Harry was gasping, and unable to make a sound as Malfoy hovered over him, blond hair falling out of their carefully pinned places, face smug and eyes as cool as steel.

“Somewhere, in the Malfoy line,” Malfoy said, swinging his legs over Harry’s and sitting down on Harry’s stomach. Harry squirmed, looking at the outline of Malfoy’s cock through his tight pants, and feeling his own traitorous cock rise to attention. Malfoy just sat there, and continued, “Probably Brutus Malfoy, according to my mother, married a succubus.”

“A demon?” Harry blurted out, momentarily distracted from his carnal urges. Malfoy gave him a confused frown, his seductive drawl dropping for a moment.

“Huh? What demons?”

“A succubus, it’s a sex-demon type thingy, isn’t it?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes and shook his head, “You’re such a Muggle sometimes, Potter. A succubus is a witch, a very fertile witch with a very high sexual drive.”

“Then why not just call her a witch?” Harry challenged, enjoying the twitchy expression on Malfoy’s face as he was distracted from his seduction plan, “A witch with libido? Why call her a succubus?”

“Because,” Malfoy gave him an annoyed glare, finally got his rhythm back, shaking his head and he leaned down, his lips very near to his own open mouth, their breaths mingling together, “sex is their life, a part of their magic.”

“You,” Harry gasped when Malfoy twisted his hand through his hair, and pulled his head back, “You’re a succubus?”

Malfoy laughed, and Harry _felt it inside_. The slow vibrations in Malfoy’s chest pressed against his own, his shirt scratching his oversensitive bare chest and the grass tickling his back.

“Somewhere, in my family, was a succubus. And in our very magic, our innate life force, is that magic, which my potion unlocked, and the Wiggenwald revived, which makes me an _incubus_ , Potter.”

And Malfoy, he licked a strip, right from the corner of his mouth and into his ear and Harry arched upwards and whimpered as Malfoy slipped his tongue in, and _bit_ his earlobe, tugging gently and his fingers tightened on his wrists, the soft, wet dirt curling up with his fingers and the damp seeping into his sleeves as Malfoy pressed down into him, his hips sliding lower and lower, and onto his own.

“You need sex,” Harry moaned as Malfoy grinded down, his mouth very close to his ear and _why_ was Harry not throwing him _off_ now that he _had his answers_?

“ _Very good, Potter,_ ” Malfoy’s voice was pure, undiluted sex, and Harry’s eye rolled back into his head and he was about to come when Malfoy, that fucking _bastard_ moved further down, sitting on his thighs and then sitting on his _legs._

And he could feel Malfoy doing something, wandless, and his hands, they pressed against the tree roots and the rough bark of the roots was chafing his wrists as they curled around his hands and pinned them-

Harry keened, and Malfoy let go of his hands, his hands sliding down Harry’s bare chest. Harry stared at him helplessly, tugging at his hands uselessly, feeling the tears gathering once again, as the grey eyes hungrily took in every exposed inch of his skin, watching the skin redden where he dragged his nails.

Finally, Draco had him spread out on the dirt, his shirt pulled open, exposing his skin to cold air. Harry gasped as Draco lowered his mouth to each nipple one by one, and began to kiss his way down his sternum to his abdomen.

“Malfoy, please,” Harry pleaded hoarsely, not sure if he wanted him to stop or not. And then Draco looked up and Harry knew, he _knew!_  It was futile, Malfoy wasn’t present here. His eyes, while still his, had none of the quick awareness and the sharp intelligence; they only had the wild look of a starved man, the power ancient beyond either of them.

Malfoy began to palm at his erection and one hand slipped inside the waistband of his trousers, he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears leaking down the side and he felt the hot skin touch his sensitive parts.

He gasped loudly, his hands digging into the mud, uprooting a few grass blades, when Draco gave the tip a small kitten lick before pulling it into his mouth. He arched and cried out as Draco began sucking him in earnest, swirling his tongue around the head. A small shiver worked its way up his spine when Draco deliberately touched his teeth to the erect organ.

And then Draco took him all the way inside, touching the back of his throat and _hummed_ and Harry shot off the ground, his toes curling and screamed as he came down his throat.

He continued panting as Draco then proceeded to clean him with tiny licks, and then crawled up his body so that they were face-to-face.

“Did you know your eyes change?” Harry blurted out, watching the warm mercury seeping into the cold steel, and Malfoy- Draco, he can call him by his given name after the guy had swallowed his come- gave him a confused frown, his tongue darting out to lick a drop of white fluid clinging to his bottom lip.

One more press of his hands into the dirt and Malfoy was getting up, as graceful as ever while he patted down his uniform, and ran his fingers through his hair.

Draco gave him an appreciative look, his grin positively smug and licentious, and Harry felt a flush of humiliated arousal, watching Draco’s tight arse walk away, lying in the dirt, gnarled tree roots slowly uncoiling, his shirt wide open, leg splayed, and trouser unbuttoned, his cock half hard against his stomach.

**o.o**

Harry was still shaking when he walked into his dormitory a couple hours before dinner.

Hermione and Ron were sitting on Ron’s bed, and Ron yelped when he saw Harry.

Harry didn’t know what Ron thought, or what Hermione could see as he slipped off his soiled shirt, toed off his mud-caked shoes and locked himself in the bathroom to strip out of his muddy trousers and damp pants.

He began to shake violently as he sat down on the shower floor, the hot water sluicing over his body, washing away the evidence of today. He drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

Draco Malfoy had sucked him off.

Harry couldn’t understand what was happening, only that his cock was once again filling up as he thought about being tied down as Malfoy-

He moaned and his head fell back against the shower wall.

**o.o**

Harry skipped dinner that night and went up to the astronomy tower, trying to ignore the stinging cold wind as he leaned against the railing.

His thoughts were a jumbled mess. After 4 hours of raging and crying and thrashing about on his bed, 4 hours of calling Malfoy every derogatory term he could think of, calling him a rapist, and a pervert and a molester, after 4 hours of being painfully aroused, Harry had come to a realization just as he came to the thoughts of Malfoy’s lips wrapped around his cock.

Malfoy wasn’t in control.

Harry didn’t dare ask Hermione about incubi. She was too smart, and too observant and if Harry spoke a word to her, or even looked her in the eye, she would know.

He avoided the library, knowing he’d find Hermione there when he didn’t see her in the common room and escaped to the Astronomy tower, still frustratingly blank about Malfoy and his intentions.

He didn’t know why was surprised when Malfoy leaned against the railing near him, facing the tower door, casually twirling an Eagle quill in his nimble fingers.

His skin began to crawl as the tense silence stretched and he broke it first.

“What are you doing here?”

Malfoy shrugged, an elegant rise of his shoulders, and didn’t meet his eyes.

Harry’s lips twisted into a sneer, “How did you find me, Malfoy?”

Malfoy didn’t answer, and Harry was about to leave when Malfoy slid closer to him. Harry stepped away but a hand on his arm stopped him. Harry jerked away, and refused to look at the other student. He heard Malfoy release a sigh before the blond again leaned against the railing, close enough that they can maintain eye contact but not close enough to touch.

“I can feel you.” Malfoy said quietly and Harry turned to stare at him incredulously, trying to ignore the heat between them. Malfoy just gave him a calm look and continued. “That’s how I found you that night near the Hall, and how I knew you were listening this morning. I know you heard it, how you were the most compatible and powerful person in the school for me. I can feel when you are close by.”

Harry licked his lips and thought how to construct his next query, “You said I was the most compatible in this school.” Malfoy made a noise of agreement and Harry proceeded before he lost his nerve, “Will you find someone more…compatible after school?”

Malfoy chuckled, but it lacked the amusement, “Potter, I seriously doubt it, but I _may_ find someone more compatible. But I can say that I’d never find someone more powerful.”

“Why do you need a,” Harry cleared his throat and darted a look at Malfoy, “Why a specific person?”

“Compatibility.” Malfoy replied immediately. Harry returned his smile with a questioning look. “See, Potter. This is the matter of magic. My magic needs your sexual energy, _your magic_. Its, well, think of mushrooms.”

Harry thought of Malfoy’s fascination with food analogies. Malfoy gave him a warning glare and Harry tried to stop his lips from twitching. Malfoy rolled his eyes and continued, “Some are poisonous, and some are nutritious. Right now, your magic is the most…nutritious for me.”

Harry gulped and nodded, his eyes fixed on the far away goal-posts. “Will you die?”

Malfoy gave him an amused side glance, “Probably everyone will. Except you, of course, Mr. Boy-who-lived.”

Harry gave him a glare, trying to ignore how _surreal_ this was, Draco Malfoy teasing him. “I meant, as an incubus. Without sex, will you die?”

Malfoy made a small choked noise, somewhere between amused and disbelieving, “Is this a muggle thing?”

“If you’re going to laugh at me…” Harry started to push away from railings, but Malfoy wrapped his fingers on his biceps and pulled him back with a small chuckle accompanying his apology.

Harry tried not to ponder why he didn’t shake off the hand this time, even as the fingers began to drum on his arm.

“How do I explain this?” Malfoy made a thoughtful noise, and leaned back, his neck stretched as he stared up at the night sky. “Would you die without food for a month? But continuously withholding certain nutrients from your diet would cause your body to weaken and eventually, yes, die.”

Harry tried desperately to pay attention, but he didn’t think it was possible, not when he could see Malfoy’s adam apple bobbing as he swallowed and his thin lower lip trapped between his white teeth.

“It’s the same for them. Sexual energy is a part of them, their very essence, if you must. It’s tied to their magical core, and to their life forces. Continuous deprivation leads to a weakened magical core, which will, even for a regular wizard like you, be enough to kill.”

Malfoy kept referring to ‘them’. He still didn’t consider himself one of _them._

“So what about you, then?” Harry asked, watching the pale hand trembling on his arm, and realized that it had been more than a week since the accident, and Malfoy only had the two sexual contacts with him since then. Harry ignored the urge to spontaneously combust at the thought and dragged his attention to Malfoy’s words.

“Me? Well, I’m not an incubus.” Draco shot him a side glance, “I have incubi magic, due to the succubus in my ancestry but you must understand that these wizards are very much pureblooded, just different in their magic and are equal to the regular wizards, ruled by the same laws as you and I.”

“I don’t care about the blood, Malfoy.” Harry deadpanned. Draco chuckled and shook his head.

“I know. It’s not about that. It’s just, for a regular person, an incubus won’t be very noticeable, except perhaps in the extreme vibes of sexuality and their attractiveness. They’re not like a veela, who can enchant their intended prey. An incubus doesn’t need to do that, they are just like someone with an extremely high sexual drive.”

“Like Parkinson.” Harry said, dryly and was horrified to feel delighted when Draco threw his head back and laughed. Harry’s eyes traced the sharp features of his face as he laughed, beautiful and regal even in their pallor, and he thought he understood why an incubus wouldn’t need a veela’s power to enchant someone.

Compared to a veela’s inhumane beauty, sometimes more intimidating than attractive, an incubus looked like the most beautiful person you can imagine.

“An incubus, or a succubus…they can’t change a person’s proclivities. Or create an attraction where there was none before, against a person’s wish.” Draco glanced at him, and Harry blushed when he realized what he meant. Draco looked away and continued, “Pansy, who is like a sister, can admit that I am attractive, but she won’t ever be inclined to…be intimate with me. And maybe Blaise would be inclined, but it will be his choice.”

“Nott?” Harry hated himself for asking, and he knew Malfoy saw it, he could see it in his knowing smirk as he answered.

“Even I can’t change that Theo is in love with Pansy.” Malfoy said, and suddenly his smirk softened, and Harry could see why Draco Malfoy was attractive, incubus or not, and maybe, _maybe_ , Harry was a little interested in what this meant.

“Do you,” Harry paused and looked away from the curious blond, his face flushing, “Do you feel better, after...after?”

And he could feel where Malfoy slid even closer to him, his fingers tightening on his arm, and they were pressed together, from shoulder to ankle, and Malfoy’s breath was hot against his neck.

“A bit,” Malfoy said, his voice small and weak and Harry looked at him and realized that Malfoy was _leaning_ against him because he was weak, “It was just…oral sex and it works, but only as a…snack.”

Harry felt his neck burn, thinking about the _snack_ Malfoy had and promptly derailed _that_ train of thought before his traitorous body reacted any further.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, maybe half an hour, before Malfoy pushed himself forward and went away, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

**o.o**

The next few days were nothing short of torture for Harry.

The afternoon of missed lessons and dirty clothes the same evening had ignited Hermione and Ron’s suspicion. To Harry’s irritation, that suspicion seems to point (quite correctly) towards one Draco Malfoy.

“Does Malfoy seem sick to you?” Ron had asked in breakfast, two days after Harry had his night chat with Malfoy on Friday.

And there was another reason for concern.

For the last two days, Malfoy had mostly left him alone.

And it was driving Harry crazy, not seeing the blond during classes on weekends and sometimes, rarely, during meals.

He was sick, everyone could see that. His hair had lost their shine, and his face was a pale, pasty color, a far cry from his usually vibrant, translucent skin. During classes on Monday, he had stopped taking notes, the quill held limply between his fingers. His eyelids were thin and papery, the fine veins visible underneath, and under his eyes where the dark circles were forming.  

It didn’t help when his friends kept giving him looks varying between angry glares, pleading eyes and some outright desperate faces. It reminded Harry every moment that he could help Draco. In fact, only _he_ could help Draco.

**o.o**

It went like that for three more days, and on Thursday, Draco Malfoy stopped attending classes as well.

Harry had sneaked out under his invisibility cloak to follow Nott, Malfoy and Parkinson to the infirmary one afternoon when Malfoy missed the classes for the first time.

Malfoy had sat on the infirmary bed, looking gaunt and pale, but swinging his legs happily like a child even as Madam Pomfrey waved a wand over his head and a holographic graph popped up, profiling his magic.

The urgent red peaks and the soft greens and darkish blues were threaded through dark strands rising near the peaks and just looking at them made Harry’s head swim.

Madam Pomfrey gave him some potions and the magical graph fluttered for a moment before the green swelled out and the red seeped down to the blue, the black strands washing down along with it.

Malfoy looked over to where he was standing while Madam Pomfrey rattled off various Potions and exercises to get his magic back and he _smirked_ , a delighted and happy and slightly evil twist to his lips.

And Harry realized that the git can _feel_ him and he turned and ran, all the way to the Gryffindor tower, his heart pounding, and face flushed in a way that had nothing to do with all the running.

**o.o**

Harry skipped dinner again that night, sick of the glares he received at lunch from Malfoy’s friends, and even more sick of the persistently concerned questions from his own friends when his insides were gnawed with guilt.

His stomach was growling loudly by the time Ron and Seamus called it in and he sneaked out of the tower with his cloak and the map.

He cleared the map off when he reached the large painting and tickled the pear, which giggled and turned into the door handle. He went inside the kitchen and saw only a few elves giving the kitchen a final wipe down.

“What is Mr. Potter wanting, sir?” He looked down, and saw a tiny elf cocking her head at him, her hands folded behind her back.

“Hey, Pip.” He smiled at her, “Are you retiring for the night?”

Pip shook her head, eye wide as if Harry had suggested they were planning on mass homicide, “No, Harry Potter, sir, no! We is cleaning the kitchen, and then cleaning the dormitory!”

Harry felt a twinge of sympathy with Hermione’s idea. “Pip, why don’t you go on, and I’ll just make a sandwich and go?”

“Pip is making what sir wants!” Pip insisted, her earnest eyes larger than usual.

“I want to make it myself, if it’s not a problem?” Harry tried, stamping down on the urge to sweep the little elf into a hug.

After much promises and insistence that he wants to do it, and no, it’s no trouble, Pip finally gave up with sullen pouts. He set to work on making a simple cheese sandwich, and by the time he was finished, he was left alone in the kitchen.

Or, maybe not so alone, he amended when he turned around and saw Malfoy sitting at the kitchen table, one hand loosely wrapped around a bottle of butterbeer and other casually toying with the empty parchment of the Map.

He looked up when Harry set down his plate. Harry’s heartbeat quickened when Draco gave him a smirk and nodded at the map, “Why do you carry around a blank parchment, Potter?”

Harry didn’t answer and turned around to grab a knife and a plate. He quietly cut off half his sandwich and slid the plate over to the blond. He sat down across from him and almost smiled when Malfoy slid over a bottle of butterbeer.

Both of them were silent and Harry looked up after finishing his half of the sandwich only to see Malfoy’s half uneaten, the blond playing with the bread while he rested his temple against the mouth of his unopened bottle.

“Have you been eating?” Harry blurted out. Malfoy looked up through the pale strands tumbling over his forehead.

“Of course, Blaise wouldn’t let me starve.”

Harry flushed, and tried not to ponder over just how _Blaise_ wasn’t letting him starve. “I meant, food. Bread and…stuff.”

Malfoy smirked, “I also meant food. Bread and…stuff.”

Harry chugged down his butterbeer, trying to ignore the grey eyes burning into him. He sat down his empty bottle and looked at Malfoy, who still haven’t eaten. “Is something wrong?” Harry asked, causing Draco to look up startled, “I thought you liked that-”

Harry cut himself off when he realized how _creepy_ (yes, thank you, Ron) it was to know his enemy’s favourite food. Malfoy made another half hearted attempt to pick up the bread and with a jolt, Harry realized he looked even worse than yesterday, and was probably too weak to eat.

Draco gave him a surprised look when Harry gently pried the sandwich from his hands and held it up to his mouth. “Eat,” Harry prompted, “We’ll talk about this, okay?”

Draco parted his lips and Harry watched the lips close around the bread and take a bite. He watched as Draco chewed, swallowed and then the pale skin turned pink when he realized he was being watched.

Draco ate half the half-sandwich with Harry feeding him, interspersed with small sips of his butterbeer (after Harry popped open the lid for him). Finally, Malfoy shook his head and refused to open his mouth for more, instead leaning forward to rest his head on his arms.

Harry sighed and picked up the plates and the bottles, a few sips still left in it. He deposited it in the sink and with nothing better to do, began to wash them.

He was aware of the eyes following him around the kitchen, tracking every move he made. He was aware that he was only wearing a thin sleeveless t-shirt and of the sweat pooling in the small of his back. He was aware of his thin pyjama pants, clinging to his arse and to his legs with his every move. And he was painfully aware of his own spike of arousal as he felt the eyes on his arse.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, and Harry cursed himself for jumping like a virgin at the first hesitant touch to his hips.

He held himself still, setting down the washed plate, and tried to control his breathing. He was aware of Draco’s hot breath on his neck, and the heat from his feverish body even if he wasn’t touching him in anyway. The hands returned to his waist, the fingertips brushing against the material covering his hipbones.

His breath came in short pants as Draco touched his nose to his neck, and then proceeded to place small kisses on the exposed skin. While one hand on his hip proceeded to slide under his top, the other hand went back to skim over his arse. Harry stopped breathing all together when the hand traced the crease of his arse, first with a light finger, and then more firmly, going down towards his balls.

Harry clenched his palms on the kitchen counter as Draco pressed himself closer to his back, mouthing a trail up his neck. He splayed one hot hand over his stomach, inching slowly up to his chest as his tongue touched the shell of his ear. Harry looked down panting; at the hand touching his waistband even as the other hand brushed against his pebbled nipple. He could feel Draco’s erection encased in his trousers through his own pyjama, the pressure firm, terrifying and arousing at once, against his arse.

He squeaked when a hand finally found his cock free from the confines, and the other hand pinching his nipples returned down to play with his pubic hair.

“Potter,” the man started at the harsh whisper against his ear, feeling dizzy as his tongue darted out again to swirl inside his ear shell, “Harry, I can’t stop.”

“It’s okay.” Harry gasped out as Malfoy- Draco pulled at the foreskin.  “You can continue.”

Draco moaned, and pulled back from his neck, and dropped to his knees. Harry flushed hotly, torn between humiliation and arousal, as two hands cupped his covered arse, squeezing and kneading, and Draco peppered his arse with kisses as he pulled down his pyjama bottom.

Standing half naked against the kitchen counter with Draco Malfoy on his knees leaving hickeys on his arse was not how he had imagined this day to conclude.

A grunt escaped him when Draco dipped low enough that he kissed Harry’s balls. Draco gripped his hips and turned him around so that his bare bottom was settled on the cold kitchen counter.

Harry stared at the blond in fascination as he nosed along his erect penis, pulled the foreskin back and licked the tip. He threw his head back and moaned when Draco pulled him into his mouth and began moving.

Every time Draco went down, his cock touched the back of his throat. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away as the chapped lips stretched around his cock. He placed a hand on Draco’s forehead to push back the hair just as Draco glanced up, his steel grey eyes again beginning to melt into silver, and held his gaze.

The pressure building up in his groin made him mewl, causing Draco to quicken his pace.

He was about to come, he thought frantically, and pushed Draco back. The blond refused to let go, sucking even more enthusiastically. Harry finally managed to extract his cock from the wet mouth just as he came, his release painting Draco’s surprised face in thick, white spurts.

For few moments, only their harsh breathing filled the kitchen before Harry broke the silence, “I’m so sorry!”

Draco just blinked up at him, looking thoroughly debauched with his messed up hair, and flushed face painted with Harry’s semen. Harry stared as Draco’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally raised a hand to wipe some of the semen off his cheek.

Harry nearly came again when Draco flicked out a small pink tongue to taste it. Draco looked up at Harry again with guileless wide eyes, the color of warm mercury. Harry gulped and helped him up, handing him a towel silently.

While Draco wiped his face, Harry pulled up his pants and wiped the kitchen counter.

**o.o**

Harry refused to answer any of Hermione’s nagging questions the next day. Ron just gave him a concerned look and thankfully, did not gang up on Harry with Hermione.

He went to his morning classes as usual, and tried not to look at the Slytherins when he shared the classes with Dra-Mal- _Draco._

It was only during their 4th class, just before lunch, when Professor Sprout enquired where Malfoy was did Harry turn to look that it was just the three Slytherins.

Theo Nott cornered him before lunch. Harry asked his friends to go on to the Great Hall, and after much insisting, reassuring, and suspicious eye conversations did they reluctantly leave him alone after Ron gave Theo a warning glare.

Just when Ron and Hermione rounded the corner, Zabini and Parkinson joined Nott, all three facing Harry with their arms crossed and faces suspiciously blank.

“Well?” Harry raised his eyebrows, “Do you want something?”

“How much do you know, Potter?” Nott asked.

“Most of it. The potion, reaction, incubus, most of it.” Harry said, watching a meaningful look pass between Parkinson and Zabini before Zabini turned to him.

“Then you know why we are bothering with you?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I gathered that he needs to leach off my magic.”

“He doesn’t need to _leach_ off anything, you imbecile!” Parkinson growled menacingly, “You don’t understand how _lucky_ you are-”

“Yeah, well, I don’t consider myself lucky when I am randomly molested by a git, alright?” Harry snapped, even as he felt it in his gut when the lies slipped off his tongue.

“Molested?” Nott raised an eyebrow, “Do you know how many people wishes to be an incubi host?”

“Well, Malfoy doesn’t seem very keen to be an incubus, at any rate, Nott.” Harry replied, ignoring how his brain chimed inappropriately about how very much _lucky_ it considered that he was a host.

“Do you know how tough it is to reverse a potion?” Parkinson demanded, “Even Professor Snape is at a loss and everyone knows that Slughorn is no better than a slug and with Draco weakened to this state, he can’t do anything-!”

And with that, Parkinson burst into tears and while Nott wrapped his arms around her, Harry was startled to realize that he _understood_ what she was feeling and how much _worse_ she had it.

Harry grimaced sympathetically as she gave him a forlorn look, eyes still brimming with tears. Zabini rolled his eyes, “Potter, I won’t lie. It seems near impossible to reverse this one. Draco’s _magic_ has been unlocked; it’s not just a few physical symptoms. And considering how close incubi are to regular wizards, it is even more difficult to find a problem to begin with.”

Harry stared at him nervously, and Zabini continued, “Honestly, we are researching more on incubi now, then trying to find an impossible cure. Did you know that incubi are very nearly extinct?”

“How can the most fertile race be extinct?” Harry raised an eyebrow, causing Nott to snort and Zabini to shrug.

“Beats me.” Zabini replied, leaning against the door, “Maybe they just went into hiding due to everyone crying over them.”

“Blaise!” Parkinson interrupted and gave Zabini a glare. She composed herself before she turned to Harry, “Listen, I don’t give a Skrewt’s arse about you but has Draco had sex yet?”

Harry’s face lit itself on fire and he looked anywhere but at them as he replied, “Well, twice he...”

“He fucked you?” Zabini asked bluntly.

“Ah, no!” Harry squeaked. “He just…a …blowjob.”

Nott squeezed his eyes shut while Parkinson made clicking noises with her tongue.

“These blowjobs can only sustain him so long, Potter. He needs something more. And loathe as I am to say this, it seems only you can give him what he requires.” Nott gave him a glare, which Harry felt was entirely unjustified considering what they were asking from him.

Harry looked away, unable to stop his body reacting towards that suggestion. “I never said no.”

“But you never said yes, either.” Zabini shot back.

Harry gave him a shifty look. Parkinson growled. Harry sighed.

“Maybe you should initiate it this time.” Nott suggested.

“You want me to go ask him for sex?” Harry gave them a look of pure disbelief.

Blaise finally snapped. He stepped forward and snagged Harry’s collar, and sneered at him, “Listen up, Potter. While you are playing a blushing virgin, Draco is dying there because he was unfortunate enough to have _you_ as his host! So either you get your arse up there and fuck him healthy, or we simply kill you so that he can move on and find a new host!”

Harry glared at him until he was released and took a quick step back. Giving them all a final nasty glare, he turned and marched away from them, not giving them the satisfaction of a reply.

**o.o**

Harry spent half the night tossing and turning in his bed and the other half watching the dot labeled ‘Draco Malfoy’ unmoving in his bed, along with the dots denoting Parkinson, Nott and Zabini, all sequestered together, the three dots occasionally moving around to the Slytherin common room before going back to Malfoy.

He thought back to his conversations with the Slytherins, and tried to imagine himself in their place if Ron or Hermione had been hit with something like that.

Then he thought back to that Sunday night, when he had found what Malfoy was attempting to do, his grim determination to experience and to have all the Slytherins experience the joy of a Patronus they were cheated out of.

And then he recalled that night in the Astronomy tower. Malfoy had been frail, but he had still teased him, and answered his questions without any mocking or malice.

And then his mind went back to the kitchen, to Malfoy’s smirk even when the blond didn’t have enough energy to hold up a sandwich, how brave he’d been through it all.

And this inadvertently led to the thought of how Malfoy had touched him, hesitant but desperate, hungry for it, and his _face_ painted with Harry’s come and Harry realized how painfully aroused he was and then jerked off to the memory of Malfoy by the lake that afternoon, and realized that that was the last time Malfoy had been marginally healthy.

And he came to the conclusion that yeah, being a host to an incubus, things could definitely be worse.

**o.o**

The next day, after dinner, he told Hermione that he had yet to finish his Charms essay due the next morning, all 15 inches of it.

“Harry!” Hermione gasped, “Are you kidding me?”

Even Ron looked shocked, but that maybe more in sympathy with Hermione than with Harry’s ability to procrastinate.

“I forgot, ‘Mione!” Harry moaned miserably, “Flitwick is going to kill me.”

“He’ll fail you, mate.” Ron said, not at all helpfully, “That was for the exam grade.”

Hermione looked worried, more than Harry, “Well, you can copy mine, I guess.”

“It was on an original charm.” Harry reminded her before turning to rummage in his trunk for his cloak and the map, “I can’t copy yours unless you have a few of them written.”

“Well, I might have one-”

“Actually, so do I.” Harry interrupted, holding up his cloak and the map, “It just needs a few finishing touches, and I think I can sneak into the library to work it out before I sleep.”

“Well, we can come with you and-”

“Don’t worry, ‘Mione.” Harry said, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and patted Ron’s shoulder before he donned on his cloak, “You know I work better alone.”

And before they could reply, or offer more help on writing an essay he already had ready in his trunk, he dashed out of the dormitory and began to make his way to the dungeons.

**o.o**

Sneaking into the Slytheirn dorms was easy (he rolled his eyes when the map showed the latest password to be ‘Incubus’), but actually sneaking into the boys’ dormitories was a challenge.

Just as he reached out to push the ‘Eighth year’ door, it swung open and he had to take a quick step back to avoid hitting Parkinson. She narrowed her eyes and reached out, clawing the empty air before her.

Harry sighed and took off his cloak. Her eyes widened comically before she managed to get herself together.

She calmly closed the door behind her, grabbed Harry’s arm and dragged him to the common room before she turned on him, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, a questioning eyebrow raised.

“You asked me to help.” Harry pointed out, stuffing his cloak into his pocket before it gained any more scrutiny.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d sneak into the dorms.” Parkinson replied, and gave him an indignant glare, “How’d you get the password?”

“Overheard it.” Harry lied smoothly. “Well, I’m here, do you want me to help or not?”

Parkinson stared at him for a few more moments, and Harry greatly enjoyed seeing various emotions- disbelief, confusion, annoyance, and resignation- flit over her pug-like features before she finally sighed and motioned for him to follow her.

“He refuses to rest; we’ve only managed to convince him to skip classes because of Madam Pomfrey. He read all the texts, and have us explain every lesson and do you know he insists on doing the homework and have us submit it for him? And he is receiving at least an E on all of them.” Pride coloured Parkinson’s voice and Harry had to admit, he was impressed.

Sure, Draco had always been a talented wizard, second only to Hermione in school, really, but Harry had never really considered him to be studious.

While Hermione had always been a know-it-all to him, a well of endless facts and knowledge, Draco Malfoy had been more of his rival, meeting him halfway in everything.

But after everything that had transpired, after being forced into a situation where he had no choice but to see him, he was now realizing how little he actually knew about the Malfoy scion and the House of Slytherin outside of the prejudices and the gossips he heard, and sometimes unwittingly fuelled himself.

Parkinson opened the door slightly and beckoned someone over. A moment later, Nott and Zabini joined them outside in the corridor, twin expression of disbelief on their faces.

Parkinson waved away their exclamations with a smug air around her, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he had been manipulated by the Slytherin princess more than once.

Finally, after much debate (and warnings and threats of bodily harm), Harry was allowed to enter the Eight year boys dormitories.

The first thing he noticed was how dark the room was, the only light coming from the table lamp in one corner.

The room was circular, and spacious-looking, exaggerated by only three beds that took up less than half the space. Two tables sat at the corner, both shelving books and parchments and other stationeries, but one of them had his blond incubus slumped over, head cushioned on folded arms, one hand still stubbornly holding onto a quill.

He took another step towards him. Malfoy was dressed only in a thin nightshirt and clingy shorts which barely reached his mid thigh. His bare feet twisted together on the floor, and Harry had to stop from rushing forward.

He laid a hesitant hand on his head and continued to card his fingers through the soft strands when Draco turned his head slightly towards him.

“What’re you doing here, Potter?”

“A little birdy told me my incubus needs help.” Harry whispered softly, resolutely ignoring how Mal- _Draco, damn it!_ flushed.

His hand crept down, towards his trembling shoulder and then to skate across his back, tracing his spine. Draco shuddered, his skin burning up. Harry continued stubbornly, his other hand joining in the impromptu massage.

His hands trembled as they moved lower towards the bottom of the t-shirt. Draco moaned softly when his hands touched the bare skin for the first time. Emboldened, he slipped his hands inside and continued up, pushing the t-shirt along to reveal the wide expanse of the pale back.

Draco pushed himself up, craning his neck slightly to with him, eyes wide and shiny, pale lips parted. Harry didn’t meet his eyes, continued pushing the t-shirt up, until Draco allowed him to slip it off of him. Before he could lose his nerve, he leaned down and kissed the spot between his shoulder blades.

Draco jerked up as if a current has passed through him and turned again to look at him in shock. This time, Harry held his gaze, hands resting lightly on his bare shoulders, thumbs brushing against the jutting collarbones.

Slowly, as if in a haze, he leaned forward again. His lips touched the light stubble of Draco’s jaw, hot breath fanning across his cheek. Draco made a strangled moan when Harry reached his ear and sucked lightly.

Hands came up to grip across his shoulder, and moved up to twist into his hair, pulling urgently. Harry wrapped his arms around the frail blonde and pulled him up, supporting most of his weight while he continued to kiss the pale neck.

“Potter,” Draco gasped. Harry moved his hands lower, gripping the waist and raised the man so that he was sitting on the desk, his thighs straddling Harry’s waist. Draco gave another urgent tug on his head, and he reluctantly let go, pulling back enough to look at the frightened face, “Potter, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Harry was surprised when his voice came out lower than intended. Draco took a shuddering breath, arms tightening around his shoulders even as he shook his head, pale strands falling in his eyes.

“I can’t do this.” Harry opened his mouth but Draco shook his head again, desperate. “Don’t you get it? I can’t stop once I- If I am strong enough after this-”

Harry silenced him with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’ll deal with whatever happens after. But for now,” Harry pulled back, and, before he could over think the gesture, kissed his forehead, “We need you to get strong.”

Draco didn’t protest -either because he didn’t mind, or because he was too weak to fight him, Harry was too scared to ponder- when he pulled Draco up against him, the legs gripping his waist tighter as he carried the blond towards his bed, easily identified with the soft, satin sheets instead of the regular Hogwarts issue sheets.

Draco looked terrified when Harry deposited him on his bed, clad scantily only in those shorts which were riding up his parted thighs. Harry felt oddly guilty, even though it was _Draco_ who wanted- no, needed it- to _survive_.

As he dawdled, Draco grew impatient and finally snapped, “Hurry up, Potter! You can’t expect me to control myself when you’re offering!”

It seemed that was all Harry needed. He slipped off his top in one fluid movement and moved to kneel between Draco’s parted legs.

“How do you…” Harry gestured nervously to nothing in particular.

“I don’t think I can fuck you.” Draco declared, dragging himself slowly so that his head rested on the pillow, his shorts tenting, and legs spread wide. At Harry’s confused look, he elaborated, “I don’t have enough energy right now, Potter.”

Draco motioned for Harry to come closer. Harry shuffled forward on his knees, kneeling between Draco’s legs awkwardly until Draco pulled him closer by his waist and began to unbutton his jeans as he continued, “So either you can fuck yourself on me,” He blushed furiously when Draco looked at him through the blond lashes before he turned his eyes back to his hands and continued in a low whisper, “or you can fuck me.”

Harry finally understood what it was about incubi that made people lose their mind over them. Even with no magical power over senses, incubi exuded a vibe of sexual energy which was headier than any mere spell or enchantment.

An irrational attraction that you can’t blame on a spell, knowing that it is your desires, and yours only, that are going to give your incubus his life force.

Draco, even as weak as he was, weak enough that he can’t lift up a fork to feed himself, stroked Harry’s exposed cock, looking like he could continue for the rest of his life.

Harry gently took his wrist and unwrapped his fingers, shaking his head when Draco gave him a questioning look. He shuffled backwards and fingered the waistbands of Draco’s shorts. “These need to come off.”

Draco nodded, lips parted and two high spots of colour on his cheeks, and lifted his hip to allow Harry to slide off the shorts, leaving him bare and spread out on the bed, looking ethereal on the dark emerald sheets.

Harry had to take a moment to compose himself, willing himself not to come as he reached out to touch Draco’s penis, fully erect and beaded with pre-come. He licked his lips, and glanced up nervously to see Draco watching him with half lidded eyes; his arms spread wide, waiting for Harry, looking for all the world as if he would be a personal discovery toy for Harry’s curiosities.

“I’ve never done this before so…” Harry cleared his throat and retracted his hand, “Do you mind if I- if I…”

Draco gave him a lazy smirk and shifted down, spreading his legs even wider, pulling one leg up, "Lube, Potter. Lots of it. And do you know any protection charms?"

After he fucked Draco for the first time, he was pleased to see some colour returning to the pasty white skin. They laid panting and thrumming with adrenaline as they both came down from their high, Harry with his head on Draco’s shoulder, Draco’s arms wrapped around his shoulder.

He was surprised when he felt the hardness against his hipbone and looked down to see Draco almost erect again.

“Hadn’t you just come?” He asked, staring at the erection in wonder. Draco shrugged sheepishly, his arms tightening around Harry.

“I feel better but, you know, not…” He cut off with a frustrated huff.

“You need more.” Harry guessed, almost amused at the sullen blonde’s reluctant nod. Harry shrugged and shimmied down the length of the incubus’ body, mouth watering at the frankly terrifying thought of what he was about to do.

**o.o**

Draco Malfoy was a liar.

Incubi have to be demons, Harry was sure of it. No normal human, wizard or not, could do that.

Harry groaned when he woke up the next morning, the sunlight flooding the room and making his head hurt. His body was aching, all the muscles feeling like jelly. He tried to lift his hand and only succeeded in making his fingers twitch.

Yesterday, Draco had finally regained enough strength somewhere after round two and another handjob.

And _then,_ Draco had shown Harry clearly what being an incubus really meant and how they were different from regular wizards with a high sexual drive. The blond had been relentless, both in seeking and in giving pleasure.

In short, last night had been both the most incredible and the most exhausting night in Harry’s life.

At present, Harry finally managed to muster enough strength to raise his head. Draco was cocooned in his sheets, sleeping peacefully and looking as if he had been asleep for years.

Harry smiled and raised his hand to brush against the blond hair. He quickly retracted it when one pale eye cracked open and regarded him with sullen curiosity.

“Good morning to you, sunshine.” Harry whispered, only half sarcastic and pushed himself up on his knees. He flushed when Draco opened both eyes and ran them over Harry’s body, his very naked body.

“Good morning to me, indeed.” Draco replied, just a barest hint of a smirk on his lips as Harry scrambled to cover himself up. Draco apparently had no qualms about that as he freed himself from the tangle of sheets and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

Harry stared open mouthed, positively drooling as Draco stood up, naked as the day he was born. He stumbled slightly before he straightened and stretched. Harry, despite how exhausted he felt like, felt his cock would have hardened if it hadn’t sworn to take a vacation last night.

“I’ll go have a shower, Potter.”

Harry looked around, and saw that they were alone in the room. He briefly wondered where the other two boys have been all night. He stood up, and stretched, trying to work out all the kinks by twisting his body in odd positions.

“My, I never knew how flexible you were.” Harry jumped violently and spun around, only to come nose to nose with a smirking blonde. He flushed when Draco raised a hand to his neck and bought their faces closer, their lips barely a few centimetres apart. “I would have fucked you a long time ago.”

“You haven’t fucked _me_ yet, Malfoy.” Harry replied, somewhat breathless as he tried to stop himself from going cross-eyed.

Draco’s smirk deepened, and took a decidedly sinister edge as his hand began to travel down to his chest, gently pinching his nipple. His other hand touched his hip briefly before it travelled onto his arse, lightly squeezing on one cheek.

“Yet, Potter, yet.”

**o.o**

Ron was awake by the time Harry stumbled into the Gryffindor dormitories, waiting for him in his bed, fully dressed in his uniform.

“So.” Ron began, calmly eyeing Harry as he slipped off his last-night shirt, “Where were you?”

“I fell asleep in the library.” Harry replied, giving Ron an innocent smile before turning to rummage through his trunk for clean clothes. “Murder for the back, I tell you.”

“Harry?” Ron called, and Harry turned and froze when he saw the parchment Ron was reading, “I don’t think I understand the wand gesture for your charm.”

“Ron, I-”

“I didn’t think that after all we went through, you would still feel the need to lie to us, Harry.” And for Harry, disappointing Ron was far worse than disappointing Hermione.

“Ron, I didn’t think-well, I didn’t…” Harry stumbled, “I didn’t know how to-”

“Come here,” Ron said, patting the bed. Harry went and sat down, leaning his elbows on his knees and stared at his hands. “What’s going on?”

Harry shook his head, “Ron, I didn’t know how to tell you-and if Hermione knew, she would again just-”

“I know,” And Harry was surprised to hear the gentleness in Ron’s voice. He looked up and Ron gave him a commiserating smile, “Hermione can be a bit much, I know, but she means well, Harry. She worries.”

“Too much, sometimes.” Harry muttered under his breath. Ron patted his back. Harry took a deep breath, “Slytherin dorms.”

“What? Slytherin dorms?”

“I was in the Slytherin dorms last night.” Harry looked at Ron, “With Malfoy.”

Ron’s eyes widened, and Harry could see the anger warring with confusion but he was almost _proud_ when Ron raised his eyebrows and calmly asked, “And what were you doing there?”

And Harry smiled, “Well, I told you about that Patronus potion? Malfoy told me that it reacted with the…”

**o.o**

“He really does look better.” Ron muttered to him, awed. Harry looked up and saw Draco Malfoy sitting at the Slytheirn table, laughing. At his side, Parkinson and Blaise were apparently enacting something with wild, exaggerated gestures while Nott glared at all four of them.

As Harry sat down between Ron and Neville, Draco looked up and gave him his sweetest smile.

Harry’s heart squeezed and he smiled back. Then he flushed when Malfoy licked his lips and gave him another smile, this one more of a leer, almost bordering on obscene.

“Did he just…did he…did Malfoy…?” Ron stuttered and turned to give Harry an almost embarrassed look.

Harry, grinned fondly at Ron, embarrassed as he was, and shook his head. He gave Malfoy a playful glare, and Malfoy winked at him and bit his lower lip before turning to stop Nott before he bludgeoned Zabini with a spoon.

Before Ron could say anything about that exchange, Hermione dropped down opposite to them. They both straightened up, trying and failing to not look suspiciously guilty when Hermione asked Harry if he had finished that essay.

Harry handed her the essay and then he and Ron refused to look up from the bacon the entire breakfast.

**o.o**

Harry was walking along with Ron towards their History of Magic class when Malfoy, flanked by his friends, came from the opposite side.

Harry’s eyes widened when Malfoy gave him a mischievous grin and continued coming towards them. Harry made to step around them when he was sure that they wouldn’t move but Malfoy grabbed his arm just as he tried.

Harry gave Ron a surprised look just to see him as bewildered as he was with Zabini and Parkinson holding onto one of his arm each.

“Come on, Weasley.” Parkinson said sweetly, linking an arm through his.

“We really should try getting rid of this stupid animosity.” Zabini said airily, giving Harry a wicked grin.

Harry would feel sorry for his friend but there were arms slipping around his waist, and dragging him back and Harry was extremely happy that they were late for their first class, and were thankfully alone.

“Malfoy!” Harry gasped when Malfoy pushed him inside a small alcove, and immediately crowded him against the wall, latching onto his neck like a starved man. “Malfoy, what are you doing?”

“Why, _Harry,_ ” Malfoy looked up and gave him a sweet smile, “I am getting rid of all this stupid animosity.”

Harry groaned when Malfoy began unbuttoning his shirt, trailing kisses down to his neck and his chest and then he dropped down to his knees and kissed his stomach, and circled his tongue around his bellybutton before dipping it inside.

“Class,” Harry gasped out, his fingers flexing on Draco’s head as the blond began to unbutton his trousers, “We have class!”

“Oh, come on,” Malfoy muttered, and he finally freed his cock and he pulled the foreskin back, “As if Binns would notice that two of his students are off shagging.”

Harry stared, feeling the urge to laugh hysterically because he was skipping class with _Draco Malfoy_ who was on his knees and sucking his cock like a child and looking at him with those beautiful silver eyes and-

“Oh!” Harry gasped, and clenched his hands in the pale hair. Draco glared at him, and when Harry didn’t let go, he released the cock to admonish him. Harry didn’t give him a chance and tugged at his hair. Draco winced, and he had to stand up to relieve the pain.

“Potter, what the hell?” Draco winced as Harry dragged him up, “Stop pulling- _ow!_ ”

“Draco,” Harry whispered, still staring at the blond, “Draco, your eyes are silver.”

“Yes, thank you, they’ve been like that for the past 18 years!” Draco snapped.

“No, no,” Harry shook his head, “They change when you, when you- you know?”

“Can’t this wait, Potter?” Draco whined, and grabbed his cock and yeah, sure, it could wait, it wasn’t that important anyway.

**o.o**

A loud groan made both of them freeze. Draco raised himself up on his elbows and they turned their heads to see Blaise standing in the doorway, one hand covering his eyes. Behind him, Nott was trying to stop Pansy from peeking in.

“Just because we know you two are shagging doesn’t mean that we want to see it!” Blaise snapped, dropping his books on his bed. Pansy had finally pushed past Theo and was staring at them.

Harry blushed, and slid his hands off Draco’s shoulders, aware of the bruises on his neck put on display. His leg was between Draco’s legs, Draco’s clothed erection pressing against his thigh. Draco pressed his wrist into the mattress, the sheets cool against his over heated skin, as he pushed himself up so that he was straddling Harry’s thigh, putting both their arousals on display.

“Can’t you people knock?” Draco drawled, flicking strands of mussed hair away from his eyes. Harry tried to sink into the mattress, praying for it to open and swallow him as Draco purposefully sat down, his erection pressing into Harry’s thigh again.

“This is our room, too!” Nott cried, tugging at Pansy’s robes when she didn’t look away.

“Draco.” Blaise sighed, “Draco, the cauldron is gone.”

Harry looked at Draco sharply and Draco gave him a mischievous grin before turning back to his friends, “Yes, I removed it.”

“What?” Pansy breathed, “The potion…you mean?”

“Yes.” Draco said, his face proud and delighted, “Its done. We did it.”

**o.o**

Hiding anything from Hermione became impossible when Draco came over to the Gryffindor table during dinner and draped himself over Harry. The silence in the Great Hall became deathly when Blaise and Theo patted Ron’s shoulder and Pansy gave Hermione a sweet smile.

“What is going on?” Hermione asked, calmly buttering her toast. Harry and Ron gulped when the Slytherins plopped down on the Gryffindor table and began to serve themselves, or in Draco’s case, pulled Harry’s plate towards himself.

“Getting rid of that stupid animosity.” Harry and Ron intoned.  The four Slytherins beamed at them.

The hushed silence in the Great Hall was quickly beginning to dissipate as the students began whispering among themselves. Even the teachers were gaping at them, along with the Gryffindors who were sharing their tables with four Slytherins.

Hermione gave Harry an incredulous look which turned into one of disbelief when Draco offered a forkful of pie to his mouth.

Harry shook his head with a pained smile. Draco shrugged and continued eating Harry's dinner. He turned back to Hermione, "Later."

After dinner, the Golden trio stopped in the hallway leading to the Gryffindor towers and turned around. The four Slytherins gave them innocent grins.

"What are you doing, following us?" Hermione asked, a bit more quietly now that she had everything explained to her.

Blaise shrugged, "We need Potter."

"You need Harry for what, exactly?" Hermione demanded.

Draco gave him a heated glance and licked his lips, "Well, I don't think you'd want me to list exactly what I need him for."

Harry flushed, warmth coiling in his guts when he met Draco’s eyes, still mercury and liquid. Ron, Blaise and Theo groaned.

"We need Potter to teach us Patronus charm." Pansy replied. There was a stunned silence for a few seconds before Harry broke it.

"You did it!" Harry shrieked and threw his arms around Draco's waist, lifting him a few inches of the ground. "You did it, Draco!"

Draco released a startled laugh and Pansy started laughing too, followed by Blaise and Nott. Soon, the five of them were jumping around; excited while Ron and Hermione gave them bewildered looks.

**O.O**

They decided to meet up the next morning in the classroom where they brewed their potion.  

The four Slytherins were already there when the trio entered the class and Blaise gave them a small smile.  Harry returned the smile and his eyes turned to Draco who was sitting in front of Snape’s portrait and toying with three vials. Pansy and Theo were sitting near the window, discussing the potion’s homework..

“Hey.” Ron said, causing the three of them to look up. “Is that Snape?”

“Mr. Weasley.” Portrait Snape sneered. Draco stood up with a roll of his eyes, blocking their view of the portrait. Pansy, Theo and Blaise came to stand around Draco.

“Well, here’s the potion.” Draco said, giving the three Gryffindors a quick glance.

“How do you know it works?” Hermione asked, looking curiously at the clear golden liquid in the three vials.

“It worked on me.” Draco replied.

“You can produce a Patronus?” Harry asked, eyes wide. Draco gave him a startled look before he shook his head.

“No, but I can see the changes in my magic profile.” Draco said. He sighed when Hermione gave him a dubious look and sat down on one of the desks.

“Fine, Potter.” Draco said, resting his elbows on his thighs, “Draw up my levels.”

“What’s the incantation?”

Draco gave him an appalled look, “By Merlin, how useless are you? It was performed _twice_ in front of you!”

Harry shrugged, and held up his wand expectantly. Draco shook his head before demonstrating the wand movement with the incantation, drawing up Harry’s magical levels.

Harry stared mesmerised as his magical energy was laid out in the air in the forms of graph, peaks and dips. His blue was solid, neatly cutting his lush greens and his frozen reds into two.

“See this?” Draco pointed at Harry’s blue line, “This represents your core.”

Draco turned to him with a smile, and for a few moments, it felt like they were the only two in the room. And then Draco turned back and pointed at his green energy levels and Harry shook himself with a muttered curse at his own silly romantic musings. This thing, this _thing_ between them, it was born of need, not of-not of-

“The green is the innate magic; this is what sets squibs apart from muggles.” Draco was saying, and Harry forced his mind away from last night when Draco had ridden him to completion. “Harry, your green is ridiculous.”

Harry glanced at Hermione in confusion, but she looked just as confused. Ron shrugged. Draco gave the three of them a sharp glance, “I’ll explain in a moment.”

Draco pointed at the red, “This is what your magic actually is. What you learn, and what you build is represented by the red. Harry has built up large magical energies, and quite solid, too.”

Before anyone could react, Draco had pointed his wand at the two remaining Gryffindors and had drawn up their magical profiles too.

Ron’s blue core was more radiant than Harry’s and Hermione’s but both their greens were thinner than Harry’s broad band, as well as duller than Harry’s grassy, lush green. Their reds were bright, Ron’s a bit more fluid, and Hermione’s greater than Harry’s.

“Now see, this,” He drew up his fellow Slytherin’s charts, “this is what happens under the Dark Lord.”

The Golden Trio stepped back, staring up at the hovering charts with disbelief.

The small black tendrils of darkness in Draco’s chart were magnified until they turned the reds of their magic a mess of dark webs. The green, reaching out to the red had covered the blue until it was a little more than a thin scar. It was horrifying to see the darkness pulse, and the Slytherins winced. Draco gave Harry a nod and Harry pointed his wand on him.

Draco’s magic profile was curious, mostly because it was almost similar to Harry’s but for a few differences. The emerald green was only less than Harry’s, but the reds were brighter and even more frozen than Hermione’s. But most beautiful, in Harry’s opinion, was the clear blue of his core, shot through with a curious purple stronger than that night in the infirmary, shying away from the dark tendrils but still pulsing strongly.

“We’ll never get rid of this,” Draco murmured, his finger tracing the dark lines, “as long as we have the Mark.”

He tuned around to face them with a strained, fake smile and held out the three vials. “Drink up, and we’ll start.”

**o.o**

The Slytherins were determined to learn the Patronus.

Theo’s magic cleared up first, followed quickly by Blaise’s. Ron took over and began to explain the basic ways.

The four remaining stared at Pansy’s chart as the black began to recede, and so did the green, letting the blue shine through, brighter than all of their cores. Draco beamed at Pansy when Hermione pointed that out.

Hermione gave Harry a meaningful glance before she pulled Pansy towards the other boys, leaving Harry and Draco staring at each other. Draco coughed once and then gave him a coquettish grin before he moved closer to him, eyebrows raised suggestively.

“Concentrate on a happy memory.” Harry said in a rush, pulling out his wand and holding it between them like a barrier.

Draco stopped and grinned at him, “Alright, master, as you say.”

Harry flushed. Draco closed his eyes, smirk still in place, and raised his wand.

“Expecto Patronus.”

And the wonder in Draco’s eyes with that tiny wisp of silver made Harry smile. He grinned when Draco looked at him in awe, grey eyes wide and an uncertain smile on his face.

"That's good." Harry whispered, "Keep trying."

**O.O**

"Where are you going? " Harry jumped and whirled around to face Ron and Hermione, both giving him amused smiles.

"Ah, Malfoy, he needs..." Harry trailed off and shrugged helplessly.

"Malfoy needs sex." Hermione said. Harry blushed and nodded. Hermione gave him a pitying look, "And what do you need, Harry?"

"Is this is an intervention?" Harry asked, letting the cloak and map fall onto his bed.

"Yes, Harry." Ron said and pushed Harry onto the bed. "This is an intervention."

O.O

Harry sneaked into the Slytherin common room past midnight. Pansy and Blaise were sitting on the couch by the fire and they looked up when the door opened.

"You're late." Pansy stood up. Harry pulled off his cloak and shrugged.

"It was an intervention." Harry admitted. Blaise snorted.

"Theo’s asleep." He said, "So is Draco."

Harry stopped on his way to the Eight year dorms and looked back at them. Pansy huffed irritably and motioned for him to go on. Harry gave them a salute before pushing open the door.

The room was dark, only the moonlight filtering in through the curtain gaps. One bed had its curtain drawn. Harry moved inside, careful to tread light, and looked around. One bed was empty, and the third…

Harry stopped. Draco was sleeping on top of the covers, a book open on his chest, one leg dangling off the bed, dressed in a simple sleeveless t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. He was near the edge of the bed, looking like he fell asleep while waiting. Harry felt a twinge of guilt. He deposited his cloak and the map on the bedside table and moved to arrange Draco properly on the bed.

Once the blond was inside his covers, Harry sat down on the other side and prepared to wait for his incubus to wake up.

**o.o**

He woke up the next morning to a babble of voices and someone nudging his knee. He blinked, and squinted. The room was dark, but the sun was filtering through the drawn curtains, giving the room a cool, shady feel. His glasses were in front of him, and he pushed them on and wiped his chin for any drool. He looked up.

Draco was reclining back on the pillows on the other side of the bed, almost in the same position Harry had found him last night. Harry craned his neck. Pansy was sitting at the foot of the bed and Draco was talking to Theo standing behind her. Blaise occasionally interjected with his own inputs while he moved around picking his clothes.

Draco looked down at him and gave him a lazy smirk, “Good morning, Potter.”

“What time is it?” Harry asked, voice hoarse. He yawned. Draco tutted and whispered a wandless spell. His mouth instantly felt clean.

“About nine.” Theo responded. Harry groaned and rolled onto his back, throwing one arm over his eyes. It was then he realized that he was under the covers as well.

Hermione and Ron were going to _kill_ him. Draco nudged his knee again and he rolled away from him so that his back faced him. Draco poked him just below his arse (Under the covers. They were sharing covers on the same bed. Harry stamped down his blush.) Harry rolled back to glare at him.

“Potter,” Blaise called, buttoning up his white button-up, “How long will it take for us to learn the Patronus?”

Harry shrugged, “Depends on you. I learned in a few days, some learn in a week.”

Pansy sighed, and fell back on the bed so that her head was on Harry’s legs. She stretched out one arm towards the ceiling, fingers splayed out. “I want to see my Patronus.”

Harry glanced at Draco. He saw looking at Pansy’s fingers, his expression tender. Harry extended one hand in between them on the bed, palm up. Draco gave him a startled look.

“I also want to see your Patronus.” Harry whispered. Draco bit his lip and turned back to Theo, joining in their speculation of what their Patronus might be.

“Mine will be something regal.” Pansy said, her voice so smug that everyone laughed.

“I just hope mine isn’t a peacock.” Draco shuddered, and raised his hand to point at Blaise, “A dog!”

Harry didn’t hear Blaise protest because when Draco’s hand fell, it fell into his palm. Harry squeezed tentatively. Draco squeezed back.

Harry turned back to the excited discussion, trying very hard to keep his grin sane.

“Theo has to be something really cute.” Blaise said, poking Theo’s head. Theo batted him away and glared at him.

“You will be a mosquito, you berk!” Theo said. Blaise stuck out his tongue and Theo copied him.

Soon, the 18 year old Slytherins devolved into making faces at each other. Draco was laughing; more at Pansy’s long suffering sighs than their antics, his hand holding firmly onto Harry’s.

Harry stared at him, vaguely aware of Pansy standing up to pull Theo out of the room before the childishness could escalate any further and Blaise followed them out, the boys continuing their fight on the way.

Draco looked at him, his happy grin toning down to something shy and uncertain. Harry felt like he couldn’t breath.

Last night’s discussion ran through his mind when Draco cocked his head and asked, “What do you think my animal will be? And I’ll kill you if you say ‘ferret’.”

Harry gave a surprised laugh, and then Draco started laughing and before Harry could think about the surrealism of the situation, he leaned forward and kissed Draco.

**o.o**

Their first kiss was as incredible as their first intercourse.

In a distant part of Harry’s mind, he did realize how absurd that statement sounded but he was simply too busy caring.

Draco kissed like he did everything else, hissing and biting. Harry groaned when Draco forced his tongue into his mouth and used his hand to tip Harry’s head back.

Draco inched forward, and pulled himself entirely on the bed. He used their intertwined hands to pin Harry’s hands to the pillows while he crawled onto him and straddled his waist. Draco started moving towards his jaw and Harry freed one hand to cup the back of his head and pulled him back.

Draco released the kiss with a gasp, and for a few seconds, they stared at each other, breaths mingling and lips touching as they panted.  Draco leaned down to plant a quick peck, and then gave him a wide-eyed, scared look.

Harry huffed in amusement, and pulled him down for a short, sweet kiss (which Draco tried to turn into a snog again) and then pulled back again.

“You’re _my_ incubus.” Harry whispered into his mouth. He could feel Draco’s lips curling into a smile before he leaned down to kiss him again.

**o.o**

Sex is better with kissing, Harry decided a couple hours later, running his fingers through the sweaty blond hair. Draco snuggled closer, his head on Harry’s shoulder and an arm thrown over his waist, legs intertwined under the bed sheets.

Harry kissed his head, just because he _could_. Draco looked up at him with a playful glare.

“Don’t get mushy on me, Potter.” Draco warned. Harry laughed and rolled them over so that Draco was lying on his back and Harry was propped up on his elbow. He leaned down and planted a kiss on his nose. Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust, “I swear, Potter, i’ll-”

Harry rolled his eyes and kissed him. Draco raised an unimpressed eyebrow when he pulled back so Harry landed three more kisses in quick succession. Draco laughed and shoved him away.

Harry fell on his back and grinned at the ceiling. He could definitely fall in love with this incubus, despite Hermione’s misgivings and Ron’s reluctance.

Draco rolled onto his stomach and raised himself on his elbows, “I’ve been practicing.”

“The Patronus charm?”

Draco nodded.  “I can produce a more....more smoke.” Draco frowned at himself.

Harry laughed, “Just try another memory, happier. You’ll get your corporeal.”

Draco was silent for a few moments before he sat up on his knees, the sheets sliding down and leaving him naked. Harry stared at his flaccid cock, and swallowed thickly. Draco huffed and snapped his fingers, “Potter! I’d like to try right now.”

“What?” Harry sat up, “Right now?”

“Yes.” Draco declared and turned to get his wand from his bedside desk, giving Harry a perfect view of his arse. Draco turned back and gave him a glare, as if he knew what Harry was thinking. Draco settled down and pulled Harry’s arm over his shoulders and snuggled further into him. Harry pulled him closer against his side as Draco took a deep breath and held up his wand.

“I’ve never been happier.” Draco whispered. Harry looked down in surprise but before he could say anything, Draco quietly whispered, “Expecto Patronus.”

The silver smoke burst through Draco's wand, making his hair look more silver than blond. Harry was more focused on the body in his arms than the silver Patronus but then Draco gasped, and trembled and Harry looked up into beautiful silver eyes.

A silver bunny regarded him with his head cocked. With a playful jiggle of his furry butt, the bunny hopped in a circle around the two of them. A final flick of his ear, and the bunny disappeared.

The two of them stared at the empty air in a stunned silence before Draco broke it with a slightly hysterical laugh.

"I might have preferred a peacock instead of something this....cute and adorable."

Harry squeezed him before he tipped his head up. “I think the rabbit suits you more."

Draco groaned and pulled up his legs, and lowered his forehead to his knees. After a few seconds, when Harry had given up all hope of a reply, he whispered softly, “I am rather adorable, aren’t I?”

Harry glanced down and Draco gave him a smile full of mischief and this, _this_ is what he thought he’d be living with when he had fallen for this incredible man.

“Yes, yes, you are.” Harry replied, his voice breaking around the lump in his throat.

**O.O**

They met up again that evening for the Patronus lessons.

Hermione and Ron gave him a hard stare when he entered the room with the Slytherins and he gave them an apologetic smile. Hermione huffed when Draco wrapped an arm around his waist and Pansy gasped in surprise.

"What is this?" Pansy demanded, gesturing between Draco and Harry. Draco pulled Harry closer so that he was hugging him from behind and shrugged.

"Are you...together?" Ron asked uncomfortably.  

Draco settled his chin on Harry’s shoulder, "We're fucking, if that's what you mean."

Harry blushed, and so did Ron. Even Hermione looked away fidgeting. Blaise sighed.

"Guys. Come on. Tell us. Are you a couple or something?"

In reply, Draco gently turned him around and gave him a kiss. Harry tried to pull back but Draco, the shameless incubus, tugged him closer and forced his mouth open with his tongue.

"Alright, alright! We get it!" Theo cried, his wand releasing red sparks as he waved his hands frantically.  

Draco pulled back with a grin. Harry gave him an exasperated look and Draco kissed his nose before he moved away, leaving Harry with a dopey smile.

Hermione gave him a disapproving look. Over her shoulder, Ron gave him a thumbs-up.

Harry grinned and turned to the Slytherins.

"Alright, all of you can produce a lot of....smoke." Draco gave him a surprised but delighted smile. Harry continued, trying to stop a love-sick grin, "You need to concentrate more, make it your happiest memory for your corporeal Patronus."

"Of course," Draco drawled and turned to face the fellow Slytherins, "I can produce a corporeal."

An immediate babble of questions rose in the wake of the declaration.  Harry laughed at Draco’s pleased face.

"What's your Patronus?" Blaise demanded.

"When did this happen?" Pansy asked more urgently. Draco cocked his head, eyes dancing with mischief and delight at the attention. Harry rolled his eyes and poked his head.

"I'm such a great shag." Harry said. Draco gave him a glare which Harry returned with a sardonic smile.  

"Show us." Hermione said. Draco opened his mouth to make a lewd comment, no doubt, and Harry glared at him warningly.

Draco sighed and made a great show of pulling out his wand and gave a dramatic pause before casting.  

Harry's heart swelled up with love at the pure wonder on Draco's face when the silver rabbit sprung out of his wand. Even Hermione and Ron smiled when the Slytherins gathered around it, childish excitement evident on their faces while the bunny relished in the attention.

"Come on, guys." Ron finally interrupted, "I really need to see your Patronus."

Draco came to stand next to Harry while the other three practiced with new enthusiasm. Harry touched their pinky fingers and Draco intertwined them.

"Happy?" Harry asked casually.

"You have no idea." Draco whispered just as Blaise gave a whoop. Draco grinned when a falcon swooped past him and the others, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, took turns hugging Blaise.

A mere few minutes later, two large cats raced past him.

Harry laughed along with everyone else when Theo swept a laughing Pansy into a kiss. Draco moved closer to him and Harry placed an arm around his shoulder when he laid his head against Harry’s shoulder.

**O.O**

The next game, Slytherin versus Gryffindor, was a new kind of torture, both for the players and the spectators.

The two seekers couldn't keep away from each other, causing the game to run longer when the two of them ignored the snitch in favor of each other.

And much to the players' annoyance, the couple was as shameless in the air as they were on the ground.

"Whoever wins top tonight!" Draco shouted as he shot past Harry.  The Gryffindor seeker whirled around and shot after the snitch.

"You'll never top like that, Malfoy!" Harry shouted back and raced ahead in the pursuit of the Snitch.

"Do you bet, Potter?" Draco asked, eyes fixed on the snitch as they raced neck to neck, hands outstretched.  "I top and a blowjob?"

"I'll throw in a rim job." Harry threw at him. Draco glanced at him and Harry saw his eyes freeze a second before he shot forward, and his long fingers closed around the fluttering wings.

Harry gaped after him as the blond descended in the middle of the Slytherin players, the snitch held up high. Harry landed near him and the Gryffindors immediately converged on him, babbling excitedly.

Harry forced his attention away from the blond and to the commentary.  

"A surprising turn of events when the Slytherin seeker, Draco Malfoy catches the snitch but the match is a TIE with both teams at 240 points!"

Harry looked at his grinning but bemused teammates in surprise. Ginny patted his arm and their chasers started laughing and cheering.

Soon, everyone on the pitch was cheering loudly. Draco pushed through the crowds and shoved Harry.  The man stumbled before he turned to the blond.

"Potter?" Draco shouted in his ear, trying to make himself heard over the screaming crowd pressing in on them. Harry hummed in question, and wrapped one arm around his waist, keeping him anchored to his body.  "A rabbit is a symbol of sexual energy and fertility."

Harry laughed, and laughed harder when Ron gave him an embarrassed look before moving away from the couple.

Draco gave him a lascivious grin, "I remember something about a rim job!"Harry grinned when Ron gave him a horrified look and Ginny smirked at him as Draco twisted out of his arms.

"Come on, Potter! It's time I show you how to fuck like a man!"

Harry laughed again before he turned and ran after his shameless demon.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 


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